


Canis lupus familiaris

by Hinn_Raven



Series: RVB Fluff Week [12]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dogs, Animal Transformation, Corgis, Crack, Dogs, Gen, Humor, RvB Fluff Week, Temple of Alien Bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 09:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14133009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: Felix and Locus get turned into dogs. Specifically, Corgis.And then they get adopted by Vanessa Kimball.What happens next will warm your heart.





	Canis lupus familiaris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pippen2112](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/gifts), [AriRashkae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriRashkae/gifts).



> A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... birdsbeesandlemonadetrees asked the fateful question. 
> 
> “Imagine with me, if you will, Felix and Locus , mercenaries supreme, as Corgis.” 
> 
> I was, of course, sucked in. 
> 
> And when Fluff Week rolled around... Well, Lem and arirashkae asked to see it. This is probably not the end of this AU, because I have ideas. But here is a short, sweet, and absolutely fucking crack-tastic beginning to this universe.

Look, Felix has seen some _weird shit_ in his day on Chorus. Chorus is a really fucking weird planet; alien artifacts, plants that eat people, lakes made of acid… it’s a goddamn nightmare world on the best of days, and ever since Lavernius Tucker, alien Virgin Mary or whatever, has started waving his magic alien-provided sword-dick-key around…

Well, things have been getting even _weirder_.

Sometimes it’s good weird; sometimes they find weapons that shoot lasers or shiny things for Felix to add to his stash or important looking things to send to Hargrove.

The point is though, that Felix has had some really weird days as a result of Chorus-related-bullshit.

But this?

This takes the goddamn _cake_. And probably the rest of the bakery with it.

Felix’s legs are short and stubby. He is also _way_ too close to the ground.

Any comfort that he might derive from the fact that Locus is also too close to the ground, and that his legs are also short and stubby, is not mitigated by the fact that he’s still taller than Felix.

Which is simply _unfair_.

Because if Felix was going to be turned into a goddamn _dog_ , he would like to at least be _taller than Locus_.

And to make matters worse, what _kind_ of dog was he?

A motherfucking _corgi._

Locus was too, but Felix can’t even joy it as much as he should, because Locus is some sort of weird hybrid thing that somehow manages to look somewhat more, if not badass, at least less ridiculous.

“A husky, I believe,” Locus says. Felix bites him, just to prove he can, and gets knocked over for his trouble.

“Hey!” says someone up front. “Don’t make uth muzzle you two!”

Because there’s icing on this cake.

The goddamn armies of Chorus have found them, decided they’re regular dogs _and are brining them back to base._

Normally, Felix would be goddamn delighted to be taken to enemy headquarters. They could get some great recon in. But they’re now being taken _away_ from that weird-ass temple where this shit had happened, and Felix is pretty sure that any chance of reversing it is located _there_.

This, Felix decides, flopping down as far away from Locus as he can in the back of the warthog, is going to _suck._

“Whoth a good boy?” Katie Jensen coos.

Correction: this is going to suck a _lot_.

* * *

 

Kimball doesn’t quite know what to expect when Jensen presents her with two dogs.

“We think they’re brotherth!” Jensen says. “They were just out in the jungle, all alone!”

Kimball examines them. The one that Jensen is holding has been identified as a “Horgi,” a Husky/Corgi mix. He has an X shaped pattern on his face, and some of the spots on his back form circle patterns. He squirms in Jensen’s arms, uncomfortable, while the one that’s on a leash yelps and strains against the leash.

That one’s a straight up Corgi, orange in color, and is baring its teeth in an oddly adorable way.

“Bitters named that one Trouble, becauth he bit Andersmith thix times already,” Jensen informs her. “We haven’t named this little guy yet though!”

Kimball sighs, and accepts the less troublesome one from Jensen. “And you’re giving them to me, because…”

“Dogs are good for streth!” Jensen reports obediently. “And Dr. Grey thinks that you could use thome relief!”

Kimball stares at Trouble. Trouble stares back at her.

“I’m sure,” she says dryly.

The thing is, Kimball does like dogs. A lot. She hasn’t had the chance to have one in a while—she hadn’t even realized there were dogs left on Chorus. But here are two, very fluffy, very cute dogs. Sure, one of them looks like it needs obedience school, but that’s why Kimball took her old dog to obedience school. She probably remembers enough to pull him into line.

She names the Horgi Tic-Tac-Toe. They call him Tic-Tac.

Trouble remains named Trouble, because he’s _earned_ that name.

* * *

 

Locus is… he’s not sure what’s happening any more.

There is a strange… permanence, to all of this. It feels like something has fundamentally shifted in his bones, and he doesn’t know how to handle that.

General Kimball and General Doyle share a large living area with the Reds, Blues, and Freelancers, for reasons that Locus can’t quite figure out. Officially, he and Felix belong to Kimball.

Unofficially, they’ve become some sort of strange house mascot.

Locus spends his days sleeping, investigating the house for any pertinent information (there’s very little that’s not stored on a computer), and avoiding Agent Washington with a strange, overwhelming sense of… _awkwardness_.

Being a dog is… uncomfortable, in many ways. He has a _tail_ , and it _wags_ , without _permission_. His tongue exits his mouth frequently. He can’t speak to anyone but Felix, although the Simulation Trooper Caboose is fairly good at interpreting what he means.

He gets picked up a lot, and people pet him, and…

He likes it.

That’s perhaps the most concerning part out of all of this.

He _likes it_.

He likes it all; the taste of dog food, the simplicity of things, the attention, the kindness… Felix mocks him, but Locus finds himself minding less and less as time goes on.

Felix is fighting it tooth and nail, of course. He takes great pains to ensure that he earns his name “Trouble,” breaking into knife drawers, shredding curtains, and trying to trip Tucker down the stairs every chance he gets. He ambushes people first thing in the morning, knocks things off the counter, and generally acts more like a cat than a dog, in Locus’ opinion.

Locus does not assist him in any of these tasks. On occasion, he sits on top of him to prevent Felix from doing anything too ridiculous, although that never lasts long.

Time is difficult to keep track of, although Felix and Locus do try. They figure that they’ve been here about three months, when Agent Washington returns with a furiously squirming dog under his arms.

“I’m starting to think we’ve got a Temple of Dogs around here somewhere,” Washington says dryly, setting the dog down on the ground. The dog looks nothing like a human, but Locus knows instinctively who it is.

Sharkface, recognizing both of them, lets out a roar of fury that comes out as a puppy yelp, and charges at them.

He is, in fact, half Labrador retriever, half Corgi. The sight is so disorienting that Locus nearly allows himself to be knocked over.

Nearly was, of course, the operative word.

“I’m naming this one Terror,” Washington announces.

“Trouble, Tic-Tac, and Terror?” Lavernius Tucker questions.

“They’re an alliterative alliance!” Donut says.

Washington smirks.

Sharkface and Felix tussle on the floor, and Locus watches.

Finally, Sharkface briefs them on the situation, once Felix has gotten him to bark uncle.

He’d apparently had a conversation with the alien A.I. and had learned that the transformation was non-reversible. And then, he’d accidentally been transformed himself. “It’s called the Temple of Second Chances or some bullshit like that,” he says, scratching his ear. “Goddamn, I think I’ve got fleas.”

“Go itch near Dr. Grey, she’ll take care of it,” Felix says. The two of them are familiar enough with the various solutions to dog-related problems by now. Dr. Grey is not quite a veterinarian, but apparently she was a year and an internship away from that particular degree, so she was more qualified than anyone else present. “Well shit.”

Locus isn’t sure what to do now. If they must remain like this…

“I’m going to go lick my balls on Tucker’s bed,” Felix announces, and stalks off. Or well, waddles. Because he’s a corgi.

They all are.

“I’m just shocked they haven’t had you two fixed,” Sharkface says.

“Doctor Grey apparently never took that class in Veterinary School,” Locus says.

Sharkface goes very still, and the two of them think about it for a moment.

“Let’s hope they don’t offer online classes, then.”

Locus would nod his head, but he’s a dog, so instead, his tail wags, in that full-rear-end-wiggle way that Corgis do.

* * *

 

Terror, as it turns out, is definitely Carolina’s dog.

It appears to surprise Terror as much as it does the rest of them—he hates her for a solid forty-eight hours, growling at her and trying to bite her the way that Trouble tries to bite… well, everyone.

They put a muzzle on him for a while, and Kimball gets out the spray bottle.

But they don’t even need to use it, because the next day, they find him curled up on Carolina’s lap, glaring at everyone who passes, as if daring them to comment.

* * *

 

“Seriously?” Felix demands. “I thought you were going to join me on the “let’s trip the Freelancer down the stairs” mission!”

“Fuck off,” Sharkface says. He’s currently being scratched behind the ears.

“Oh my god, you are all _boring_ ,” Felix yells.

Kimball squirts him with a water bottle. “Quiet, Trouble,” she scolds.

“ _I will have my revenge_!”

He gets a spray of water straight to the face for his declaration.

* * *

 

Locus stretches carefully as he gets up from the pile of blankets that serve as his bed in the office.

Kimball has fallen asleep at her desk again. Locus should allow her to remain—there are advantages to letting an enemy leader be exhausted, after all. But Locus nudges her, letting out a small bark. She stirs slowly, and Locus props his front paws against her chair and presses his nose against her side and barks again.

“Mmm, Tic-Tac?” She mutters. He lets out a reprimanding whine. She reaches out sleepily and pats him on the head. His tail begins to wag without his permission. He barks again, just to remind her that he will not be placated by pets. “Alright, alright,” she says, scooping him up into her arms. “I’m up.” She squints at him tiredly. “Where’s your partner in crime?”

Felix, Locus knows, has been crated for the night as punishment for biting Caboose. Locus barks, knowing she can’t understand him.

“Probably in trouble again,” she answers her own question. “Well, guess you can stay with me tonight.”

Locus has a bed in the common area, inside a nice little doghouse that Grif had made for him. Felix and Sharkface also have them, but in general, they rarely sleep in them. Felix is crated more nights than not, these days, and Sharkface’s strange attachment to Agent Carolina has yet to abate.

He settles into Kimball’s arms contently, slightly smug at knowing that Felix’s inability to control himself is finally being _dealt with_. Realizing that they are stuck in these forms is somehow comforting, now that he’s had time to adjust. He no longer has to worry about spying or tactics. He only needs to be a dog. Sure, it’s undignified, but it’s pleasant enough. Felix, however, has only grown more agitated, attempting to do whatever harm he can in Corgi form.

Locus has a dog bed in Kimball’s room, but some nights, when she sets him down on her bed, he stays there to keep her company. He can’t help but feel smug about that—Felix is not allowed on the bed, or any of the furniture, after the first week. He’d left too many scatological presents around for any of them but Caboose to want him in their room for the night.

Attempts at training have proven futile, since Felix was doing it on purpose.

Kimball leaves to prepare for bed, and Locus settles down. He’ll adjust when she gets into bed. He… enjoys cuddling up next to her at night. It’s pleasant.

* * *

 

“This is Midnight,” Carolina says. The dog in her arms is sleek and mostly black, a Rottweiler/Corgi mix. She lounges in Carolina’s arms with a comfort that clearly is irritating Sharkface, and puts Felix on edge. Locus, from his position at Kimball’s feet (the suck up) just watches, curious.

Maybe, Felix thinks hopefully, she’s just a dog, unlike them. Maybe she’s not going to be a threat.

Carolina sets “Midnight” on the ground, and then the dog’s attention snaps right towards them. Keen brown eyes land on them, and then her lips pull back, exposing teeth that are _definitely_ Rottweiler teeth.

She cracks her neck, something Felix hasn’t even realized that dogs could even _do_.

“Hello cockbites,” she says, and oh shit. He’s heard that voice before, on an old recording from Project Freelancer.

Agent Texas lazily wags her tail, and Felix realizes that they are, in fact, absolutely screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff Week is still on, so if you've got a prompt, drop it in my askbox at @secretlystephaniebrown over on Tumblr!


End file.
